Candles
by DirgeOfDecember
Summary: There aren't nearly enough candles left in the world for him to light for the dead. — NickxEllis


**Title:** Candles  
**Fandom:** Left 4 Dead 2  
**Pairing:** NickxEllis  
**Rating:** PG-ish, I guess.  
**Warnings:** Slash  
**Pages:** 2  
**Word Count:** 677

Again, don't own Left 4 Dead 2, or the characters. Not makin' money; just playin' around with it.

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"El?"

The mechanic glances over his shoulder, flame-lit shadows playing across his face. The room is cast in a gentle, strangely haunting glow of candles. So many of them…

Nick stands in the doorway of the surprisingly pretty church near the border of New Mexico, watching curiously with the moon shining at his back.

The boy in question gives him a tired smile in response.

"I can't help it."

Nick steps forward, closing the door behind him quietly. Green eyes dart about the area as he approaches the alter of candles Ellis is kneeling before. It had been ages since the conman had stepped foot inside such a place; were it not for the twenty-three year old in front of him, he would rather have stayed away.

He takes a seat on a pew closest to his partner.

"What are you doing, anyway?"

A faint glimmer catches in the candlelight. A rosary, bloodstained and clenched tightly in shaking hands.

"Never mind." Nick knows better. Ellis was raised Catholic—even in the ravaged world around them, there is still a shred of faith left within him. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

The brunette shakes his head. "It's okay. Didn't mean t'run off like that." He sounds sheepish, apologetic. "I jes'…" Blue eyes return to the candles. "I feel…almost obligated, y'know?" He shakes his head. "I guess you wouldn't."

He always accepted Nick's lack of faith; it wasn't his place to judge, he'd said. Hell, he admitted on a few occasions, he was surprised he held onto his own all this time, because he had begun having his doubts.

Nick smiles, just faintly, even though the mechanic is no longer looking his way.

He says nothing, and his companion continues speaking. "There's seventy-nine candles. Dunno why, or if there were more or not at one point, but… There ain't nearly enough. Ain't _nearly_ enough… S'pose I dunno where I'd find, let alone put a hundred million candles, though…"

Silence filters in, and those eyes close once more. The gambler takes care not to make a noise, letting Ellis do what he felt he had to. He turns his eyes to the vaulted ceiling above.

Moments pass into minutes, and several of those pass before the softest of noises reaches Nick's ears. He returns his attention to the brunette.

One hand retains its hold on the rosary while the other covers his eyes. Both are trembling badly, and the older man knows he's trying hard not to start breaking down here. The tears, however, are flowing freely.

The Infection continued spreading like wildfire; their safety was no longer assured. The military were beginning to lose hope and fled west, and all they had left was each other. Coach and Rochelle were gone.

But then again, a _hell_ of a lot of people were gone. They were either dead, or Infected.

And Ellis was taking the time to light candles and pray for everyone. Nick wonders briefly if he's included, but knows better than to question, because he _knows_ the answer.

Ellis had given up _everything_. He'd given up his "eternal soul", his place in Heaven for _him_.

He had given into temptation—his attraction towards Nick—and had fallen into sin; he'd kissed the man twelve years his senior one night, months ago, and refused to turn back.

Somewhere along the way, Nick had realized he'd fallen as well.

He stands and crosses the short distance, kneeling down directly behind the silently sobbing boy he'd grown to love, and he wraps his arms firmly around him, his forehead pressed against Ellis's neck.

A strong, surprisingly cold wind blows through the broken stained-glass windows, and the world around them is cast in black as the candles are blown out.

Ellis calms after several heartbeats, leaning back into the other man with a whispered, strained "_Amen_." His hand leaves his face and fingertips find Nick's lips. The thirty-five year old kisses them lightly.

They have each other.

Even now. Even when everything is falling apart, they have each other.

Nothing else matters.


End file.
